


I Love the Way We Dance

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:37:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9528143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set June 7, 2011; It wasn't how she had expected the evening to end, but she wasn't complaining.





	

**Author's Note:**

> According to 2.1 who has read almost ten years worth of my smutty fics for various fandoms, this is the porniest porn I've ever written. Shouldn't be read at work, she said.  
> I'll just leave this here. Enjoy. :)

Although she had been far from the last one to leave the White House this evening, she hadn’t been the first out of the door either. Thus it was past her mother’s bedtime when she arrived at their home. Which meant her mother had either forgotten to switch off the lights on the ground floor or something was off. Thanks to security and service provided by the agents of the Secret Service, a break-in was highly unlikely. While that counted for something, it still didn’t explain the illumination of her residence.

That mystery was solved, though, when she exited the car. The moment she neared the door, it was opened by her husband in a tux, classical music playing quietly in the background.

For a moment, she stopped and stared at the unexpected, but not unwelcome sight. She loved him in a tux, thought he looked especially handsome. Unfortunately, he very seldom wore one – had to wear one – these days. Since he had left office ten years ago, it was either comfortable sweaters and jeans or three-piece suits. Not that the latter weren’t a bad substitute for the tux. Still, a tux was a tux.

“To what do I owe the honor?” she asked as she stepped through the door, kissing him on the lips.

He closed the door. “You have to ask?” Taking her hand, he twirled her around.

She looked at him as if she questioned his sanity. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Not at all.”

“You could have accompanied me, you know.” Her tone was the equivalent of a glare with a twinkle of amusement. “I would have loved some arm candy.” Now, she was downright teasing him.

“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but either way, I wouldn’t have made it on time,” he explained.

“I know.” She kissed him softly. “So, why the whole getup?”

“So I can do what I would have wanted to do at the White House without feeling underdressed.”

“And what would that be?”

He pulled a remote out of his pocket, increased the volume of the music, and bowed slightly, holding out his hand to her. “Dance with my beautiful wife.”

She lowered her head for a moment.

No matter how often he complimented her, she would never truly get used to it. She considered herself okay-looking, not a beauty queen by far, but also not an ugly duckling, not anymore (although, he had loved her during those years as well). Over the years, she had been forced to learn to care more about her appearance. She had only cared about being appealing to him, and for as long as he didn’t give a damn about her not wearing make-up, she didn’t bother. To this day, he loved her without it. However, public pressure had been high – and still was. Learning to apply lipstick, eyeliner and what not on a regular basis, fitting these few minutes into her morning routine had meant that they could fight for the people who needed a champion, could do some good for the state and later the country, brighten the future of its children. So she had done it, because it had been a small price to pay. Once her own public career had taken off, though, and it had been more about the substance than the image, she had started to fight back again, at least a little bit, by using the few minutes to either sleep or be in the office earlier to work for the people of New York instead of painting her face. Of course, her make-up free look – with glasses rather than contacts no less – had caused a media frenzy, but she had stopped giving fucks about that. When it came to the expectations the world had of women in politics, of women with public lives, of women – period – the world needed to change to fit the women, not the women to fit the image. So she had gone on, making sure to look presentable whenever anything rested on it, but not bothering at all when work needed to be done, especially behind closed doors. Occasionally, though, she went through the trouble of dolling herself up just because she could or wanted to.

Today had been such an occasion. While a White House dinner event always came with a dress code that had to be abided, she could have easily opted for a more demure attire. However, she had chosen the dress weeks earlier, hoping her husband would accompany her to the event and wishing to look good for him as they didn’t get a chance to go out together very often these days.

When he had had to cancel a few days prior, she had almost not picked up the dress from the store before deciding to go with it anyway – for herself and to remind a few people that this Secretary of State was very much a woman who wasn’t above using her feminine wiles if necessary. While she knew she had attracted a few surprised looks throughout the evening, she had been the perfect image of confidence and grace – until her husband had effectively destroyed her composure with pretty much one word and a look that told a million more that meant the same: to him, she was beautiful, desirable, sexy.

There was no way she could deny him, not that she even wanted to.

Looking up at him again, she put her hand in his. “It would be my pleasure, kind sir.” She smiled as he drew her into his arms and started to lead her from the foyer into the living room in a Waltz.

When they passed the light switches, he turned off the lights without missing a beat. The lack of electric illumination revealed that many candles were lit, bathing the room in a warm light.

As if the tux hadn’t been enough of a sign of what awaited her, the romantic setting had anticipation wash over her.

She had to hand it to her husband, he didn’t do anything halfway, and tonight, he was out to seduce her. She wouldn’t even try to guess the details of his plan, but she was sure she would enjoy it. A lot. Bill Clinton was a master of the art of seduction, had proven that to her countless times. But no matter how often she found herself on the receiving end of this kind of attention, it never got old, never lost its effectiveness.

What had started out as a proper dance position suitable for official events, slowly evolved into an almost proper dance position less suitable for diplomatic events. With every twist – each of which he had used to admire her attire – he had pulled her a bit nearer at the end until any space between their bodies was eliminated.

He then began to use the fact that she had opted for no straps against her – if one wanted to use that preposition – by tracing the line of her shoulder first with the tip of his nose, his upper lip barely gracing her skin, then with his lips, caressing, kissing, in between whispering words of love and desire.

At some point, she closed her eyes and relished the feelings he evoked in her, trusting him to not let her stumble as dancing turned into something closer to swaying.

Between his ministrations and the heady feeling of love that enveloped her, she lost all perception of time. Maybe it was a good thing that he hadn’t made it to the White House. They either would have had to restrain themselves or given the audience a show – neither was an appealing thought.

While his mouth did a very good job at distracting her from pretty much anything but the man holding her, the hand resting on her back hadn’t remained idle as she noticed when her dress suddenly felt too loose. 

Her sneaky man had lowered the zipper on the back of the dress enough for the dress to loosen but not so far as that it would slide down and present a tripping hazard. No, he clearly didn’t want to part with the dress just yet, she realized when, one arm slung around her waist, he let go of her hand, trailed his fingers up her arm and then down between their bodies under the bodice to slip first one, then the other breast over the fabric, baring them to his eyes and touch.

He blew some air over them, making her nipples harden further and her moan at the sensation. She didn’t know what she had expected him to do next, but what he did had definitely not been it: He pulled her against his chest again, kissed a trail up her neck before lightly sucking at her lower lip and picking up the rhythm of the music once more, turning swaying into dancing again.

As he guided her through the room to the music, her nipples brushed against his tux-and-shirt covered chest, teasing them, teasing her with each turn, each step. She couldn’t help looking down, watching her naked chest rub against the fabric of his clothes again and again.

She hadn’t felt this lascivious in quite a while, couldn’t remember when she had last done anything that wanton. Dancing completely naked would have felt more decent than this.

It was unmistakable that she wasn’t the only one affected by the sight of them, by their closeness or their action and reaction. With her lower body pressed against his, she could feel his arousal through the layers of his pants and her skirt.

“You look amazing in this dress,” he said, caressing the rim of her ear with his lips as he spoke the words. “So beautiful. So incredibly sexy. Especially like this.” He twirled her away from him, raked his eyes along her body.

Under the intense desire of his gaze, her body felt as if it was on fire.

“Damn hot,” he rasped as he reeled her back into his arms.

Instead of resuming the sweet torture of dancing, though, he remained standing and leaned down to kiss her breasts, to draw a spiraling line with the tip of his tongue from the outer curve of her breast to the tip of the nipple, to suck it into this mouth and to repeat the action with the other breast.

Commonly, she would reciprocate in a way, would tease him as he teased her, would caress him, but tonight, she didn’t seem to have any control over her limbs, was simply putty in his hands. Nothing existed to her except for him and the sensations his touch and words roused in her body.

Moments later, she found herself backed up against the small desk in the corner that was free of candles, except for one lantern.

Now, he pulled the zipper down entirely and gently pushed the sleeves down her arms, and the rest of the dress accompanied them to the floor, leaving her only in a pair of lace panties and her heels.

After hoisting her on the desk, he picked up the dress and put it over a nearby chair as her heels dropped to the ground.

The cold surface of the furniture sent a short jolt through her body upon contact with her heated skin. However, the discomfort didn’t last long for not only did the wood warm up soon, but her husband’s further actions shifted her entire attention away from her surroundings once again.

Placing his hands on her knees, he spread her legs and stepped between them. His mouth covered hers with a kiss that became deeper and more urgent by the minute.

At the same time, he stroked her thighs, from her knees up to her buttocks and back down. Each time, his hands moved closer and closer to the inside of her thighs until he grazed her crotch and followed the line of her panties to her backside.

She whimpered into his mouth when he brushed his fingers again over her still covered vulva.

“So wet,” he observed between kisses. “I love that I can do that to you.” He cupped her, the thin, drenched fabric the only barrier between his hand and where she wanted it to be the most right now.

“Take them off,” she demanded – or was she begging? She wasn’t sure, and actually didn’t care as long as he only did it – and lifted her hips.

Knowing her well, he realized she had reached her limit – at least for now. So he did as she had asked and tugged the admittedly nice lingerie down her legs and threw them uncaringly in the general direction of her dress.

Positioning himself between her legs again, he ran his hands down her arms, positioning them behind her so she was leaning back on them. This gave him easy access to her breasts. He didn’t waste any time, latched onto a nipple, suckling not too gently while he parted her labia and pushed two fingers into her wet heat.

When she moaned loudly at the sudden sensual overload, the stray thought that he hoped his mother-in-law had closed her door and was sleeping soundly upstairs entered his mind. Not that she hadn’t had a pretty good idea what would go on in the house during the night when she had turned in earlier and left him in his tux to lighten the candles. She hadn’t disapproved of his plans to seduce her daughter, had actually straightened his bowtie before wishing him a good night. Knowing and witnessing – if only by ear – were two different things, though. Not that he would mention any of that to his gloriously naked wife. It would dampen the mood. He would simply hope for the best, and if nothing else, they were all adults. So breakfast shouldn’t be too awkward.

After a final tug on her nipple with his teeth, he kissed his way down her body, getting on his knees in front of her.

As his fingers continued to move within her, he started to stimulate her clitoris orally – licking, sucking, scratching it with his teeth, blowing cold air on it.

Looking up from between her legs, her heels digging into his back, he was overcome by love, desire and the fierce need to protect this woman. With her eyes closed and her head leaned back, she was completely exposed. The trust she put in him didn’t come as a surprise anymore, but it humbled him time and again.

Given the foreplay, it didn’t take much to trigger her release. He actually delayed it by pausing his motions until she began to beg and curse him. Once he finally pushed her over the edge, she came hard, and he prolonged her orgasm by continuing to rub her. Eventually, he changed the intent of his touch, eased her down gently with tender caresses.

He slid her legs off his shoulders, stood up, his knees protesting a little, but he ignored it, and gathered her sweaty, flushed form into his arms, whispering words of love as he held her while she tried to calm her breathing.

She wrapped her arms around him, cuddled close. “Thank you,” she said. “Not how I expected this evening to go. Not that I’m complaining.” She smiled up at him.

He rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he returned the sentiment. For playing along, for trusting me, for looking amazing, for this memory.

“Don’t thank me, yet,” she replied. She pushed him back a little and hopped off the desk. Her legs were a bit unsteady at first, but she caught her balance.

Looking first at him, then at herself and finally at him again, she mock-frowned. “How come I’m completely naked while you haven’t even lost your tie?” Before he could come up with a smartass answer, she continued, the question apparently having been a rhetoric one. “Well, have it your way.”

Palming his erection, she stirred him backwards until his legs collided with armrest of the couch.

As one of her hands grabbed his neck, guided him down for a heated kiss, the other was busy unbuttoning his jacket and opening his pants.

Now, it was his turn to moan loudly as she freed his penis from the confines of his underwear.

After stroking the hard flesh with her hand a few times, she tore her lips away from his and slid down his body. He tried to stop her by tightening his hold on her hips, but she shook her head.

“Oh no, my turn now. Or would that be your turn? Either way, don’t close your eyes, look ahead and enjoy.” With that, she removed his hands from her body, relocated one to the backrest of the couch and sunk to her knees.

The moment she closed her lips around the tip of his cock, his eyes fell shut.

A moment later, she stopped what she was doing. “Open your eyes,” she ordered, waiting for him to do so before she resumed the oral stimulation.

When he looked ahead as she had told him to, his arousal skyrocketed. He hadn’t thought it possible after the last two or so hours – how long it had really been since she had entered the house neither of them knew – but his feelings reached a new high when he realized that she had maneuvered them into a spot that allowed him to watch them in the reflection of the window. It was delicious payback. Even if he had wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to tear his eyes away from the sight: he immaculately dressed from the waist up, with his pants also still up; she kneeling naked in front of him, her hair tousled, her head bobbing back and forth as she sucked him.

Keeping one hand on the couch where she had placed it to steady himself, he pushed the other one into her hair. He didn’t apply any pressure, didn’t try to direct her, only held her, relished the primal feeling.

She licked, sucked, kissed his member, always stopping when he was getting very close to climaxing. It was frustrating, it was torturous, it was bliss.

When he leaned more heavily against the couch, she decided to finally have mercy on him and end the game, sucking him harder.

As much as he loved to come in her mouth, it wasn’t how he had pictured this evening to end, wasn’t what he wanted tonight.

“Stop, please,” he begged, tightening his grip on her hair to gently pull her back.

She released his erection from her mouth and looked up at him. “Are you sure?” She didn’t mind finishing him that way.

“Please.”

Nodding, she stood up and indicated for him to sit down on the couch.

Sitting down, he reached for her, pulled her down on his lap. She laughed, caressed his face and kissed him deeply as she repositioned her limbs so she was straddling him.

Without breaking the kiss, she reached for his cock again and joined their bodies in one swift motion. After all the teasing that had been going on this evening, they had earned the fulfillment they had been longing for since the beginning.

The quickness of the joining didn’t imply a rush to the finish line, though.

Once she had sunken down on him completely, she stilled, savoring being this close to him, feeling him inside of her.

Obviously, they were on the same page for he didn’t hurry her, didn’t encourage her to move. Instead he wrapped his arms around her, held her close to him and buried his face in the crook of her neck, whispering words of love against her skin.

While her fingers were running through his hair, his hands roamed her back, occasionally stopping to rest on her hip or neck.

With their mouths engaged in a languid dance, she began to slowly move on him.

Soft moans coupled with an odd groan whenever she tightened her walls around his member filled the room, joining with, getting lost in the music. As she continuously increased the pace and he started to meet her thrust for thrust, the sounds became more feral.

When she felt he was reaching his limit, she slid her hands to his shoulders to steady herself and rode him hard.

Her efforts were clearly appreciated if the drawn-out yes of his was anything to go by.

Despite his mind being clouded with arousal and the longing to finally release the tension that had reigned his body almost from the moment he had opened the door for her, he wasn’t focused entirely on himself.

His finger on her clitoris surprised her, sent a fresh wave of pre-orgasmic tingling through her body. As far as she had been concerned, this round was for him. She would have been content, happy with that. Her earlier orgasm had her body still buzzing, a feeling prolonged and fuelled by the current friction, by their kisses and his caresses.

The next groan originated from her throat.

“Come, love,” he coaxed her, rubbing her, keeping the contact as her hips undulated.

When he captured a nipple with his mouth and suckled, her senses overloaded once again.

Her orgasm triggered his, and he climaxed with equal force.

Continuing to trembled but with the tension released and exhaustion rising to the front, they sank into the upholstery, he leaning against the backrest, she leaning against him.

It took them a while to catch their breaths.

“Now, you can thank me,” she joked. “Although I still feel like I should thank you.”

He let out a short laugh. “Thank you, darling, and you’re welcome.”

“This was amazing.” She snuggled into him. “I don’t think I can move. Do I have to?”

He adored this side of her: mellow, satisfied and utterly cute.

Although he would have loved to stay right there himself, there were various reasons against them spending the night on the sofa. Among them one that he knew would get her moving instantly. As much as he hated doing this, she would curse him – and herself – in the morning if he didn’t.

“Sorry, love,” he said, “but unless you want your mother to find us in a few hours…”

The mention of her mother made her sit bolt upright and stare at him with a shocked expression. You were never too old to be afraid of your parents walking in on you.

“Oh my God, Bill. Do you think she…”

Placing a finger on her lips, he shushed her. “It’s okay. She knows. Not the details, but she knows I was up to something, and she’s a smart woman. She approved. Relax.”

It did his ego wonders that he had managed to make her forget everything. Normally, the first thing she did upon coming home was checking in on her mother.

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “Easy for you to say.”

Just as he was about to tell her that they were in this together, she took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay,” she calmed herself. “Not the first time.” He had to smile at that. “We survived so far, we’ll survive breakfast in the morning.”

“Yes, we will.” He kissed her cheek, then he pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and started to clean her up. “Go, wash up. I’ll blow out the candles and will be right there.”

“Thank you.” She took the tissue from him and got up. “But don’t you dare take off anything. That pleasure will be mine.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re still wearing all of that.”

“Honestly, neither can I.” He stood up as well, adjusted his underwear and fastened his pants. “Now, go.” He lightly smacked a buttock.

“Yes, sir.” She eyed the dress, obviously contemplating whether to cover herself with it in any way or leave it behind.

“I’ll bring it?” It was a statement as much as it was an offer and a question.

She nodded and hurried out of the room.

He couldn’t help the proud smile that spread on his face as he looked after her.

His wife was breathtaking, and he considered himself blessed every day he got to spend with her.

Having extinguished the candles and turned off the music, he collected her shoes and clothes. At the door, he switched on the lights and checked the room for any telling signs of what had transpired here. Seeing none, he turned off the lights again.

He needed to steal time from himself for them more often, he decided as he went to join his wife, looking forward to sharing the shower and the bed with her.

The End.


End file.
